I Am A Wicked Child
by 7DeadlySinsContest
Summary: Promo fic from makesmyheadspin: Sookie is quite the little sinner with a lusty crush on Father Northman. One can only imagine what sort of things she might say to him in confession. AH/AU/OOC with more tasty lemons. Yum, yum. Oh, and this is an O/S.


Gotta start by thanking **dancinchick32** and **Chanel Addict** for their help in walking me through a confession since I'm not a good little Catholic girl. I also have to give a saucy little wink to **LiselSue** who is an endless source of encouragement and keeps me highly entertained. Just for her, Eric has old-movie-idol-hair in this piece. And for those of you who have followed me here from livejournal, _finally_ I got to write my choir loft lemon! Enjoy!

The song that inspired this is: **http:/www(dot)youtube(dot)com/watch?v=8EwLw5zfoLI**

Oh, and a big fat thank you to **beatlechickstep** for working her magic on this last night.**  
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* * *

**Eric & Sookie 7 Deadly Sins Contest**

**Title: **I Am A Wicked Child

**Your Pen name: **makesmyheadspin

**Characters: **Eric & Sookie

**Disclaimer: **I do not own these characters. Ms. Harris owns the originals. I'm just corrupting them for a little bit.

I step into the confessional and slide back the little window that separates me from him. The smell of his cologne hits me right away and immediately has moisture pooling between my thighs. I made the sign of the cross and could just barely make out the movement of his fingers on the other side of the wall.

"In the name of the Father, the Son and the Holy Spirit." I said as I moved my fingers from one place to the next. He said it along with me and the sound of his voice sent chills down my spine. The thought of those fingers touching his body- or mine- made shivers run through me. The irony of having impure thoughts while in confession wasn't at all lost on me. "Bless me Father, for I have sinned. It's been one week since my last confession." I tell him this, knowing full well he knows it's me who is talking to him. More importantly, he knows what I am going to confess to. He reads me a short passage from scripture before my confession begins. "I've been having impure thoughts about a man I can't have."

"Why is that?" He wants to know why I can't have the man in question but he knows why.

"He took a vow. He's not married, but he has sworn to remain chaste."

"And you lust for him?"

"Very much. I can't get him out of my head, Father. He has the most amazing blue eyes. He's tall and strong. He has this charisma that reminds me of Cary Grant. His voice melts me like butter. And his lips... I can't stop wondering if they are as soft as they look."

"Does this man know of your attraction to him?" Father asks. It's an odd question- or it would be- if he didn't know who I am.

"I've never told him to his face but we have exchanged looks that leave little question as to how we feel about one another." This is very much the truth. He's looked at me with eyes that sear my soul.

"So then the attraction is mutual?"

"Yes, Father, I believe so, but you would have to ask him." I hope with all my heart that it's the truth.

I swear I hear him whisper, "It is." but I can't be 100 percent sure of it. "Tell me about your dreams, child."

Bingo.

My breathing hitches and I have to take a moment to collect myself. If I'm going to confess, then I have to tell him everything. I can't leave anything to myself. He needs to hear it all. My dreams come rushing back to me and I feel an emptiness in my belly that can only be filled by the man on the other side of the wall. I want him desperately and knowing I can't have him doesn't put an end to my craving.

"It's almost always the same. I'm in a dark room, lying on a bed. I'm always naked and waiting for him. I always know he'll show up. I close my eyes for just a minute and when I open them, he's standing over me. His eyes devour my nakedness. His fingers ghost up my body, starting at my knee. He travels slowly up my thigh, past my hips and stomach, up between my breasts before stopping at my throat. My heart pounds and my breathing speeds up. My eyes are glued to his. It's like his eyes are glowing. They're the most beautiful shade of blue. Like the sky and ocean combined just to make them.

"His movements are smooth and graceful. He knows just how to touch me. He climbs onto the bed next to me and he starts with a soft kiss on my forehead. He feathers kisses all over my brows and lids. He doesn't kiss my lips but I feel each brush of them as if he's kissing my core. His tongue trails down my neck. He kisses my collarbone before his tongue blazes a trail to my breasts. He uses his fingers on my nipples, pinching and twisting just right to make my body shudder under his.

"I feel myself getting impossibly wet for him and my thighs rub together, craving the friction he's denying me. His kisses cover every square inch of my stomach. The stubble on his chin drags over my mound and I whimper with want for him. He parts my legs and settles himself between them. He tells me I'm beautiful and he's been craving the sweetness of the nectar dripping from my core. His mouth hovers over my center and he blows a cool breath over me that makes me shiver.

"He kisses my thighs while my hips move to try and get him where to focus his attentions where I so desperately need him. And then his thumbs are separating my folds so he can see all of me. He growls and demands that I watch as his tongue takes a long lick up the length of my center. My body jerks and I almost scream from the contact. His tongue flicks against my clit, teasing me and working me into a frenzy.

"When I think I can't take anymore, he sucks my clit into his mouth and he nibbles it gently while two of his long fingers sheath themselves inside me. His strokes are in time with the flicks of his tongue. My back arches and my hips rise off the bed until he has to hold me down. His fingers curl inside me and he sucks my clit hard. My walls clamp down around his fingers and my entire body shakes when I come.

"He kisses up my body slowly, stopping at my breasts while I'm still quaking with aftershocks. The fingers that were inside me are rubbing circles on my clit to keep me wanting him. He flicks, nibbles and sucks my very hard nipples until I grab his face and pull his talented mouth to mine. I can taste myself on him. Our tongues battle for dominance and I nearly come again because of his clever fingers hard at work on my very sensitive clit.

"But his fingers withdraw. He flips me over and pulls me up onto my knees so I'm on all fours. He teases me with the head of his very hard erection, pressing into me just a little before pulling back. He grabs my hair and tugs as he finally enters me. He goes so deep inside me, Father. My body feels so full and good around him. It feel so right to have him inside me."

I pause there and listen to the sounds of our breathing. He's panting in the next stall and I wonder if he's touching himself the way I've started to. I know I shouldn't. I'm in church. I'm giving confession and I'm touching myself while I do it. Surely there is a special section of hell for people like me.

"His hand grips my hp, holding me steady while he pounds into me. I beg for him to fuck me harder. He bites at my shoulders and demands that I tell him who I belong to. I scream his name over and over, backing my ass up to meet his thrusts. I can't get enough of him, Father. The hand in my hair moves down my body. He pinches my nipples just hard enough that it makes me squeeze his cock from the inside. He groans and lightly slaps my ass as a reward. His hand moves from my nipples to my clit and he pinches that, too, sending me screaming over the edge.

"When I come, it's like I'm sucking him back in with every pulse of my core. My arms give out and I drop down onto the mattress. But he's not finished with me yet. No, he flips me onto my back again and enters me slowly. He insists that I watch him fuck me. I watch him slide in and out of me over and over. In and out. In and out. In and out. It feels like heaven. It's all I ever want. Just him inside me is all I need, Father.

"His mouth claims mine again but doesn't linger for long. He attacks my neck, nipping and sucking at my flesh. His teeth drag across my collarbone. He lifts my hips so that when he pounds into me he hits my sweet spot and my clit with every stroke. He comes with me, buried deep inside me and screaming my name while I'm screaming his. Hearing my name from his lips makes me feel incredible. It makes me crave more.

"His body falls on mine and he places kisses of gratitude everywhere his mouth can reach. I finger comb his hair and lazily kiss his lips when he raises his face to mine. He pulls out of me and falls to the side. He gathers me close to him so I can hear his heartbeat thudding against his chest. He breathes in the smell of my hair.

"The room is filled with the scent of our sex and it's intoxicating. I want him again and pray that he won't leave me this time. But when I open my eyes, the dream is over and he's gone. I'm alone in my bed. My lover has left me aching for him like he always does. Then I see him on the street or in the grocery store and all I want is to walk up to him and tell him all of the wonderful things he does to me. I want him to turn his back on his vow so I can have him all to myself.

"I see him with other women- it's part of his job- and it drives me crazy that he has to be close to them, that he knows their deepest and darkest secrets and thoughts like he does mine. I want him to give it all up for me. I covet him, Father. I desire him. I lust for him. And no matter what I do, I can't get away from him. How do I make it stop?"

My confession isn't nearly finished, since I feel like I should mention that I quietly got myself off while telling him about my dream. Not to mention, my impure thoughts are really just the tip of the iceberg of sin I've been building. He surprises me with what he says. He doesn't offer me a chance for penance or absolution.

Instead he says, "Meet me here at midnight. Go in peace, my child." Then the window closes and I know he's gone.

* * *

**Eric**

I know it is Sookie in the confessional just by the smell that wafts in when I open the little window between us. I can't see her but I don't need to. She begins her confession innocently enough, telling me of a man whom she desires but cannot have. I think back to the looks we've shared and the way my body feels like it's touching a live wire anytime she brushes against me.

At first, I thought I was the only one who felt it. Not since I got my Calling did I want anything as badly as I want Sookie. I learned of her sins in confession but it was her sweetness that drew me to her. I loved the tinkling sound of her laugh and her patience with the six-year-olds she taught Sunday School to. I loved to watch her play piano at choir practice. I adored her for so selflessly moving back home to take care of her grandmother when she fell ill.

While it's true I lust after Sookie, my feelings for her go much deeper than that. They've had me questioning God's true plan for me. Was I really meant to serve him? Was Sookie just a trial of my faith? Or was Sookie the mate He intended for me to have? Confusion plagued me, forcing me to spend many nights on my knees, praying for answers that didn't seem to be coming to me.

When she starts to tell me- in graphic detail- all of the things her dream version of me did to her, I was insanely jealous. Dream me was getting what _I_ never would. In spite of my attempts to remain calm, the visual she painting made me painfully hard. I heard the change in her voice as she talked. Normally she sounded light and sweet, like dripping honey from the comb. Gone is that sweetness. Her voice is much thicker and laced with desire. When it becomes breathy again I have to restrain myself from looking through the window to see if she's touching herself.

If she is, it's not only an intrusion for me to watch, but it's also a mortal sin. If she isn't, I don't want to ruin the image I have in my mind. I saw her walk into church in a pale yellow sundress with a white sweater over it. She looked every bit like the Sunday School teacher she is. Only when I picture her now, she's got one leg pulled up so she can better access her wet core with one hand, while she kneads her breasts with the other.

My hand drifts into my robe and unzips my pants quietly. Both of us are aroused by her detailed confession and I can clearly see myself doing everything she says I do in her dreams. I get so lost in her whispers that I forget where I am, or that I am breaking my vow by committing the sin I am. I can't stop. If she has been sent to test me, I have failed.

She squeaks ever so slightly when she comes and her hand slams against the wall. She even moans my name, although I'm not sure she knows what she's done. I suck in air when I come shortly after her to keep from calling out her name. I've never felt anything so powerful. I've had but one partner in my life, but that was a decade ago- before I gave myself to God. That experience pales in comparison to this and Sookie hasn't even touched me yet.

But I want her to.

She asks me how to make it all stop. The truth is, I don't have any answers. I want her every bit as much as she wants me. I have a great deal of thinking to do. I tell her to meet me at midnight as I zip myself back into my pants.

"Go in peace, my child." I say to her in a shaky voice and then leave the confessional before she can say anymore.

* * *

_**Midnight**_

I'm in the sanctuary when the doors open. I'm dressed in street clothes and my hair isn't perfectly gelled into place. Sookie's hair is hanging down her back and she's wearing a trench coat that conceals her attire. We just stare at one another for a moment. She's the most beautiful woman I've ever seen. It is then that I am sure of my choice. I only have need to know of hers.

I reach for her hand and lead her up the steps to the choir loft. Once we are safely hidden behind a rack of robes she unbuttons her coat and lets it fall from her shoulders. She's naked, save for a pair of red shoes. I'm immediately hard for her. She moves to kiss me, but first I have to ask her my question.

"Do you only seek the physical act of love, Sookie, or do you desire the real thing?" I have to know. I have to.

Her hands are warm on my face. She looks me in the eyes and says, "Eric, I want _everything_ with you."

And just like that, I know what I will have to do. "And so you shall have it."

I barely get the words out of my mouth before my lips are on hers. Kissing her is even better than I have imagined. She tastes of mint and vanilla. Her lips are soft and sweet. When her tongue seeks entrance to my mouth I eagerly invite her in. I have dreamt of this for far too long and with just one kiss, I know I can never let her go, or get enough. She is the one. She is worth any sacrifice I am forced to make.

We delight in touching one another. Her frenzied hands begin to undress me, removing each article of clothing with purpose and passion. A pile of material accumulates at our feet. She sits me down on the piano bench and straddles my lap. Our hands and mouths set out to explore and taste skin that has been denied us until now.

I want to taste every part of her but now isn't the time for that. Now we must be frenzied and chaotic. There isn't time for tenderness or lingering overtures. This has to be quick and dirty and it's Sookie who switches gears first. I don't know enough about her to know how experienced she is, or what sort of things will set her off. I can only learn as I go.

Her small hands grips my hard length while our mouths are still joined and she strokes firmly. A chill runs up my spine and a growl escapes me. She climbs off my lap and sinks between my legs. I watch as she takes me in her mouth, a pleasure I have never felt before. Her tongue swirls and teases while she sucks and what doesn't fit in her mouth is wrapped in her hot little hand.

"Sookie," I breathe a warning. If she keeps going, she's going to finish me.

She releases me from her mouth and stands up. I lunge at her, backing her against the wall. I pick her up by her thighs and she warps herself around me. Our eyes lock and then I slide inside her. Her eyes widen while I finally bury myself within her. She's hot, wet and tight. Just as she said in her dream, it feels like heaven. Being inside her feels right. I can't believe I ever denied myself this.

Her hips thrust against mine and I start to drive into her. She bites my shoulder to stifle her cries. I hear our heavy breathing and the sounds of flesh slapping against flesh. I can smell our sex and I taste her sweat on her beautifully tanned skin. I watch the bounce of her heavy, round breasts as I pump myself into her. I feel her clawing at my back and her shoes digging into my butt with every thrust.

"Oh, Eric, I'm so close." She gasps when her walls first tighten around me. "Fuck me harder."

I unhook her legs and set her down on the floor. She turns to the railing of the loft and bends over it. I enter her again, holding tightly to her hips as I thrust. My own pleasure is mounting, so close to spilling deep within her. She bites her own arm to stifle more of her cries. One of my hands abandons its post to rub her clit, making her knees go a bit weak.

I remember what she's told me of her dreams and I press my chest to her back so my lips are close to her ear. "Who do you belong to, Sookie?"

"Ahhh!" She cries out when I pound her harder.

"Tell me." I growl, slamming myself against her.

"You, Eric! I belong to you!" She moans, then whimpers when I lightly slap her ass. Not hard, but enough to get a reaction.

Just like in her dream, I pinch her clit and it finishes her. She becomes impossibly tighter around me and I can't hold back anymore. She milks every drop of my seed form me before I pitch forward, bracing my weight on the railing of the choir loft. I kiss her back and shoulder before pulling out of her. She whimpers at the loss and sinks to her knees. I'm filled with fear that she has gotten what she wanted and will leave me. I will have desecrated my vow for nothing.

Her lithe body lays sweaty and heaving on the cool tile floor of the loft. She holds her arms up to me and pleads with her eyes for me to join her. I fold myself beside her and she snuggles against me.

"Will you leave the church?" She asks without a hint of expectation.

"I have to. I have broken my vow."

"I'm sorry."

I tilt her face to mine. "I'm not."

She smiles and then kisses me. "Fuck me in the confessional." She demands.

Who am I to say no?


End file.
